Second Son
by SometimeLonely
Summary: Odin is the father he always should have been to his sons. Loki was raised as the much cherished second prince of Asgard, loved by none more than his family. When he falls ill, Thor will stop at nothing to find the cure. Though it was forbidden long ago he travels to Midgard in his search. Midgard, where a certain Captain has just been awoken from his 70 year sleep in the ice.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Captain America, or The Avengers. I make no profit from this piece of my imagination.**

**Author's Note: This is a second try at a story I already posted. As I re-read I was appalled at the low quality of my own writing. As I haven't written anything in two years I decided to give myself a pass and try again. This might move a little slower this time, but I like it better and I think it's the better back story. The next chapter should be Loki discovering about who he is.**

**Steve will not be coming into the story for quite a while. I want to establish Loki's place as the cherished second prince of Asgard pretty thoroughly first.**

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first try. I hope you like this as well or better. :) **

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Odin, called the Allfather, has ever appreciated the early mornings in Asgard. Save for a few memorable occasions when he and his lady spent the night previous and the morning after indulging themselves in a hedonistic marathon of sorts he has never been one to lie abed well into the day. There is always too much to accomplish, too much to see done or begun. Perhaps it is because of this that the time before Asgard awakes, just before the sun peeks over the horizon, has ever been a favorite of his. It feels peaceful before the problems of the realm, and indeed all nine of the realms, can be brought to his attention. It is the only time he can be, first and foremost, a husband and a father. He smiles softly thinking of his wife lying in their bed, long hair flowing out around her like a river of softened gold, a small smile on her face as she dreams pleasant things, just a few creases in her beautiful facade. Numbering just enough to display her love of laughter on her face. He thinks that he wouldn't mind if there were more. They are not as young as they once were, after all, and there is beauty to be found in the marks that give away age. To him it simply shows the universe that his wife is a mighty warrior in her own right, a shield maiden of Asgard capable of keeping herself alive these many years through her strength, wisdom, and magic.

He often envies Frigga her capability with magic. It is something that he has never had an aptitude in. There is an innate power in him given by virtue of the fact that he is the Allfather. It is a magic passed down from father to son just as the rule of Asgard is passed. It allows him to nearly any and all powers needed to protect and preserve the realm, and the inner wisdom to know when to use them, but he has no real control over them. He can never say, if asked after the fact, what he has done. Somehow his words become power and as that power flows through him it works in ways he doesn't understand to become exactly what he needs. With Frigga it is different. She controls every aspect of her magic, down to the most nominal detail. Her copies are exact, so much so that even he can't tell the difference. The beautiful little entertainments she and Loki make together at almost every evening feast as their younger sits on her lap happily are absolutely exquisite. He often wishes they were solid just to study them closer.

Loki. His thoughts turn to his youngest and he turns swiftly, leaving the private balcony off of the chambers he shares with his queen, suddenly needing to see his youngest for himself. It has ever been a fear of his, hidden so deep in his heart that he cannot express it, even to Frigga, that some day he will wake to find Loki gone. That somehow Laufey will have come in the night to steal back that which Odin saved from death. He enters Loki's room silently as the dawn and makes his way to the large bed. His youngest looks so small and pale against the dark green sheets. Loki is curled up on his side, his arms and legs pulled in tight, and his face is peaceful, sweet and impossibly young in his sleep. The knot in Odin's gut loosens. His son is exactly where he should be, safe, protected, and taken care of. He cannot help himself. He lies on the bed and studies the features of that which he claimed as his own.

When Thor was born his birth was somewhat overshadowed by the grief of losing Gaia to childbirth. As much as Odin loved his eldest from the moment he took his first breath he cannot help but see his first wife whenever he looks at him. He and Gaia had too little time together, and they'd always known that she was fragile, but the healers had thought her strong enough for one child. He cannot regret that she insisted on carrying and birthing Thor. Thor is everything he ever thought he wanted in a son. Thor is bright and strong, willful and golden as Gaia was. He looks just like her with his ice blue eyes and his spun gold hair. He loves Thor more than anything and he would have liked to have seen Gaia raise him. But, Fate often has a way of making things as they should be and he would never trade the family he has now in Frigga, Thor, and Loki for what he and Gaia might have had. They are all everything to him, but there is an especially tender place in his heart for Loki.

The first time he laid eyes on Loki, at the height of the war with the race he had been taught to hate, his life was changed forever. Along with his heart. The battle was nearing its end, the Frost Giants were defeated but not yet willing to surrender. Laufey was unconscious and being guarded by some of his most trusted men as he searched for The Casket, the loss of which would keep the Frost Giants at bay and return peace to the nine realms. As he was making his way back to the great doors, the Casket in his hands, victory assured, he heard it. The small cry of a newborn babe. Not strong and lusty like Thor's were just after his birth, but fragile, weak…pathetic almost. He considered moving on, but found that he could not leave the babe to suffer if there was something he could do to put it out of it's misery. He strode up to the pile of furs thrown carelessly on a jagged ice table and froze. The baby was small, much smaller than it should have been, and obviously neglected. Just days old and already it looked as if it was starving. He didn't know what staid the hand resting on his sword, but he removed it from his hilt and let it drift to the babe closer to death than to life.

He touched the navy blue skin, surprised when it didn't burn his hand, and the child stopped crying. Odin looked on in absolute amazement as the skin under his hand began to pink and warm until it covered the little body and even the bright red eyes burned into an emerald green. The babe, tired and weak as it was, smiled at him and attempted to coo. Odin felt his breath catch and his heart stutter in his chest. When his men came into the room he handed over the Casket without thinking so that he could sweep the infant into his arms, furs and all. First he unwrapped the babe, checking the biology, to find the infant was male. Then, he tucked the furs around the small body once more, tightly, to keep him warm, and gave into the urge that had possessed him. He kissed and nuzzled the boy's temple.

"It's alright now, little one," He whispered, "My little…Loki."

He called an end to the battle, to the war, despite his warriors' protests. Laufey was defeated, the Frost Giants' power stripped with the loss of the Casket and the destruction of their inter-world portal. He would not destroy an entire race for the actions of their leader and a select few. And Loki was the most important thing at the time. He knew the child was just hours away from death and he could not allow that to happen. So he brought Loki home to his new wife and to his bright son. Frigga fell in love with him on sight and swept him away. He didn't see his wife or Loki again for three days. On the dawn of the forth Frigga carried a much improved Loki into their bedchamber and sat on her chaise to look out at the rising sun, Loki sleeping peacefully on her chest. He walked over to them slowly, not wanting to break the spell, and sat on the edge of the chaise. Frigga looked over at him, tears in her eyes, and set a hand to his cheek.

"Thank you, my love," she said quietly, "For this gift."

"A gift to all of us," He responded, just as gently, "To complete our family."

She handed the baby to him and he stood, carrying Loki out onto their balcony and into the warming sun. Loki wrinkled his little nose and turned his face trustingly into Odin's chest and for only the second time in all his long life Odin fell completely, irrevocably in love with someone.

The love has only grown in the years since and as he looks at his younger, safe and warm and at peace in his sleep his heart settles into place once more. He loved Gaia, he loves Frigga, but nothing can compare to the love he feels for his boys. He gently runs a finger down Loki's pale face and smiles when his son comes awake immediately, his eyes still sleepy, but aware.

"Father?" He whispers around a yawn, "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, dear one," He assures Loki, "Go back to sleep. It is not yet time to be about."

Loki closes his eyes, trusting his father implicitly, and somehow manages to make his way into Odin's arms without having looked like he moved at all. Odin closes his eye and smiles against the dark hair. Every now and again, he thinks, perhaps it is acceptable to lounge a bit in bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**All Previous Disclaimers Apply.**

**Author's Note: I'm not sure how I feel about this OC and the back story I've created, but I hope that it'll give Loki even more support as he grows since that is something that he is seriously in need of in cannon.**

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Frigga, Queen of Asgard, wife of Odin and mother of Thor and Loki, is never anything but poised and gracious, especially when attending to state matters, but there are times when her most fervent wish is that she can be. She rolls her eyes and shifts her weight as yet another round of posturing begins between the diplomats of Asgard and the diplomats sent from Jotunheim. It is a major step that there is a delegation that agreed to meet in The Citadel at all, but if these testosterone driven men of both races don't put aside the past and their pride she is afraid that they are never going to get anywhere. They may, in fact, begin the war anew. It is only when she hears the frustrated, long suffering sigh that she's been longing to release from across the room and her eyes meet with the Jotun Queen's that she finally feels comfortable enough to take control from the politicians.

Odin has trusted her with these careful negotiations, knowing that she is the more diplomatic of the two of them. They are partners in all things and they play to their strengths. It is not a strength to present a delegation meant for peace with the man who personally defeated their race in a war that spanned five hundred years. The Jotun's nearly refused the talks when they requested that the current monarch attend to speak with Frigga, but, they were informed, N'Daia is the most progressive queen that has ever ruled over the Jotun people and she personally accepted the invitation to the talks. Frigga is glad now that she did.

"Gentlemen," she says with all of the steel in her voice that helped her become not only the chief magician and queen of Asgard, but also a celebrated shield maiden before she earned either of the other titles, "That will be quite enough, I think. Your services will no longer be required. Queen N'Daia and I can handle things from here."

"Majesty!"

"Queen Frigga!"

"Lady Queen!"

The protests are not unexpected, from either side, and all the men are on their feet and angry so quickly that she almost smiles. Queen N'Daia is not so controlled and allows an inelegant snort of laughter loose. Frigga allows her lips to curve up slightly before holding up her hand for silence.

"My Lady Queen?" She arches an eyebrow at the Jotun queen at the other end of the table, so different from herself and yet so similar in goal for her people.

"I agree to the terms set by Lady Asgard," N'Daia's smile is almost predatory, her Asgardian heavily accented, "No more male posturing. Out. Now."

"I perhaps would have been a little more diplomatic in my dismissal of the men," Frigga says quietly as the door slams behind the angry diplomats of both races.

"Your people cater to the males of your race more than mine ever have," N'Daia returns as both women stand. Frigga leads the way to a small table on the veranda, big enough that they don't feel crowded and small enough to still feel intimate. N'Daia sits comfortably in the light snow that is falling and Frigga's handmaiden appears as if from nowhere with the queen's light winter cloak, the one with the bilgeschnipe fur on the collar from Thor's first kill. She fingers it for just a moment, remembering, before turning back to N'Daia and smiling. She takes a moment to consider the Jotun queen. Like her own son, N'Daia seems small for her race, barely taller than Frigga herself. Even in the chill winter air she is barely covered by skins, the dark markings of her race are prominent and proudly displayed. Her feet are bare and she should seem savage, but there is something about the way she carries herself that speaks to nobility, royalty. It is impossible to tell the age of a Jotun. The Aesir do not know the things that mark age on the Jotun people and it has long since been considered rude to ask. But, she seems to be as old as Frigga as far as she can tell. Perhaps a little older. Her blood red eyes are intense and focused, but not near insanity like so many others of her race that Frigga has seen. Frigga allows herself a small laugh, feeling more comfortable than perhaps she should.

"Perhaps you're right. We do tend to cater to our males perhaps more than we should. Their egos are fragile and when they are inflated our men tend to do what we lead them to do without complaint." She shrugs delicately and accepts the warm mead her handmaiden offers her. N'Daia accepts the same.

"Life is harsher in my realm," She says carefully after a sip.

"I've no doubt," Frigga agrees, "There has ever been tension between our people and I must believe that part of the reasoning is that we simply do not understand each other."

"That and Laufey," N'Daia says the name as if it leaves a bad taste in her mouth, "We are as long lived as you, Lady Asgard, and it has been too many years to count since Laufey, traitorous general to my father, took power. We are not a naturally war-minded race. Under my father we were content. Life has always been hard on Jotunheim, but the people helped each other and we were at peace with the other realms."

"I remember," Frigga can smile at the memory, "When I was a little girl one of my favorite friends was the Jotun ambassador's son. His mother was the last Jotun female I remember seeing in a position of power."

"Another of Laufey's changes. Jotun women were considered equal in all things until he came to power. With his death we are now taking back that power."

"As it should be," Frigga smiles with her eyes and raises her glass. She is surprised when N'Daia lifts her glass as well. They take a sip at the same time and Frigga considers her words carefully before she speaks again, "My husband king understands that much of the animosity between our peoples and the greatest cause of the bloodiest war in our histories was Laufey. But, there has been too much blood, too many deaths, and too much hate between us to simply accept that your people are ready for a complete truce."

"We say the same," N'Daia's eyes are hard now, "Your husband king invaded our realm, cut us off from the other realms, and stole our greatest treasure. He is still called _Rochten_ among our people. It means baby killer…for all of the generations of children that he prevented being born by the Jotun men he killed. How could we ever trust…"

"Mother…" The voice, soft as a dove's coo, interrupts the tirade, and cuts the tension. Frigga turns to the door, where her youngest is peaking so that just his eyes are visible.

"Loki," Frigga motions him out, "Please excuse me a moment, Lady Jotun." She turns to her son when he walks slowly toward the table. She sighs softly to see the glassy surface of his eyes, the color high in his cheeks in an otherwise pale face.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he says quietly, "Father and Thor are training and…"

"No apology, young prince." N'Daia's strained voice is a surprise to both Frigga and her son, "Comfort always comes best from a mother. You are not feeling well?"

Loki looks over at N'Daia curiously. There is no fear in his eyes and for that Frigga is grateful, "Loki, use your manners, my love, and greet the lady queen of Jotunheim, Lady N'Daia."

"Your majesty," Loki bows slightly and nearly topples over with dizziness. Frigga takes him by his elbows and lifts him into her lap to rock him gently.

"Oh, my dearest," She sighs. After Odin rescued Loki and they brought him back to health there was a time of good health for him, but in the recent years he has been ill more often than not. At first it was just slight fevers that tired him. Now the fevers come with dizzy spells and fainting. His appetite is off and his thin frame cannot afford to lose any weight as it is. She has never fretted after anything the way she frets after Loki's health.

"Sleep," N'Daia whispers in her own language, one of the few words Frigga recognizes, and Loki slackens in her arms. Frigga fights down terror and anger as her hand moves swiftly to the dagger at her waist.

"What are you doing?" She asks tightly.

"Your boy is Jotun," N'Daia accuses, "Is he another stolen relic your husband brought home to you? Meant to force us into peace?"

Frigga allows her voice to go to the ice she knows frightens, "If you ever suggest such a thing again I will kill you where you stand and lead the war party to Jotunheim myself. My husband found our son in Laufey's palace during the last battle. He was just days old and nearly dead of neglect. My Odin fell in love with him in that instant and brought him home to me to nurse back to health. We have ever loved him as our own and despite what you may think he is no bargaining tool. He is our son."

"And my grandson," N'Daia whispers.

"What?" Frigga balks and tightens her hold on Loki so as not to drop him.

"When the war with Asgard reached its peak the people were turning against Laufey. We'd had enough of his war mongering and we were tired of losing all of our young men. To keep the people in line Laufey arranged a marriage between himself and a member of the old royal family. My daughter. He forced her away from her father and I, married her against her will, and raped her. We were planning an attack to rescue her and kill Laufey when Odin attacked our realm. I never knew she'd given birth, but see here, Lady Asgard."

N'Daia reaches out and touches a finger to Loki's cheek. The navy blue of a Jotun begins to spread across Loki's skin and Frigga watches in fascination. She's never seen Loki in his natural state as Odin had. Her boy's beautiful elfin features are all there and the dark markings that spread across the navy blue skin are absolutely breathtaking.

"This marking here," N'Daia pulls the shoulder strap of her minimal clothing down, "Is shared my members of the same direct family. The family with the stronger blood is the marking that shows in a child."

Frigga eyes the swirling mark on N'Daia's shoulder and takes a deep breath before she moves aside Loki's tunic. The markings are the same and Frigga feels the air go out of her lungs in a rush. She covers the marking again and holds Loki even closer, not conscious of the slight burn to her skin where she pressing it against Loki's bare forehead.

"Just a warning, Queen Jotun," She says as quietly with as much conviction as she has in her body, "We will go to war over our son. He may be your family by blood but he is ours by love and we will do whatever it takes to keep him safe with us."

"I could not take him now," N'Daia sounds like her heart is breaking, "I am not Laufey. I could not take a child from a family he loves like my daughter was taken from me. And I now have the answer to the question I wanted to ask you, Frigga."

Frigga balks at the familiarity, but chooses not to take offence. She is still tense, but relaxes slightly when she thinks about N'Daia's words about never taking a child from the family he loves. She believes her after hearing what Laufey did to her daughter. Surely, she will never let her grandson suffer in such a similar fashion.

"What was that question, N'Daia?"

"How could I ever trust Odin? How could my people?"

"And the answer?"

"I can't trust the Odin my people call _Rochten_. But, I can trust the man who saved my grandson and would go to war to keep him. Out of love. We will learn to co-exist, Frigga Queen, if only for the sake of one we both love so dearly. We will negotiate."

Frigga releases the breath she didn't even know she was holding, "I am glad to hear you say it, Lady N'Daia. I should not admit it, but Loki is the entire reason Odin and I decided to open talks to Jotunheim again once news of Laufey's death reached us. His health…"

"You are treating him as if he is Asgardian." N'Daia says confidently, "He is not. He is small for a Jotun which means he is powerful in magic. Another of Laufey's faults is that he had no respect for magic and those who use it. Jotun born small are the most powerful of us all."

"Like yourself," Frigga raises her eyebrow elegantly.

"Like myself," N'Daia is in her element now and her confidence and ease with the subject is apparent, "It is why he takes and holds the look of the Aesir. He does not even realize he does it yet he holds the spell constantly. But, just because he looks like you doesn't mean he is one of you. Even now, in this, your winter, it is warm for him, for our kind."

"He is in a constant state of sun fever?" Frigga asks, coming to the realization herself.

"Very near it," N'Daia confirms, "He does not know to control his inner temperature to keep himself healthy because he does not know he has to." She looks up at Frigga and for a moment Frigga sees the same love for Loki she has ever seen in Odin's eyes, in Thor's eyes. Everything they know about the Jotun people is wrong, all assumptions made based on the things they learned from Laufey's actions. N'Daia loved her daughter more than anything and due to this she will love Loki in the same way. Frigga can tell when N'Daia is feeling exposed because the Jotun woman looks down before stroking a hand over Loki's soft black hair.

"He looks so like my Kytlai. She would have loved to meet him. His magic is strong, Frigga, and he will have magic that no Aesir has ever seen. He will need to be trained on Jotunheim for a time when he is older. I would like him to know his heritage."

"We want that for him as well, N'Daia. It may take some time for attitudes to change, but once they have we intend to tell our people, and Loki, about his true parentage. He deserves to know how rich his history is, how much he is loved in both realms."

"Until that time I will manipulate his magic to ensure his continued health."

N'Daia whispers words in the language that Frigga does not understand and she sighs happily when she feels Loki's fever begin to lower and his breathing even out when she hadn't even realized that it was off. When she looks back down at him his skin has returned to the pale pink she recognizes and he is sleeping more peacefully than he has in a long time.

"You will work on this end and I will work tirelessly on mine," N'Daia says and Frigga makes a small sound of gentle agreement from the back of her throat.

They will make it work. For the life and sanity of the one she is holding in her arms, one of the two children she has taken as her own, they must.


End file.
